


Fagin's Man

by areyoukiddingme



Category: Oliver Twist (1999), Oliver Twist - All Media Types
Genre: Cold and Confident Edward, F/M, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, Victorian, alternative storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoukiddingme/pseuds/areyoukiddingme
Summary: A young woman's coach gets hijacked and the man who diverted it drags her into his shady dealings.





	

Emiline was on her way to her sister's house to spend the weekend with her new family. She nervously twitched back the curtains of the carriage, watching the familiar city pass by her as she wondered what this trip would have in store. Deciding it was stupid to be forlorn about leaving her home, she drew the curtain back, settling back into her chair. It was then she noticed the strange man sitting opposite her; he hadn't got into the carriage with her. She tried to scream but he was quickly by her side, clamping a firm hand over her mouth as she struggled against her assailant.

"You will follow me." He muttered against her ear. "Or I'll kill you."

He produced a knife and held it to her neck. She suddenly stilled, stiffening against his grip as the cool blade traced her neck.

"Good girl." He slowly let go of her mouth but kept the blade close to her throat as he checked out of the carriage window. It began to slow and Emiline wondered how he had managed to persuade the driver to change her destination. They were nowhere near her sister's house.

He bundled her out of the carriage as soon as it stopped, hastily picking up her one suitcase as he pushed her along the street towards a grubby looking tavern. She managed to get a sideways look at her captor since she hadn't really managed to see him properly in the cramped carriage. He was tall with a mess of dark hair on his head and he was wonderfully pale. He was rather attractive, she thought to herself, even with those dark circles under his eyes. If he had not just threatened to kill her, she might very well have picked him easily as a suitor. He linked arms with her as he pulled her into the pub, perhaps to not arouse too much suspicion as a terrified woman and well-dressed gentleman stepped into the dank place.

The women were the first thing Emiline noticed and the first thing that signalled to her that this was a grim place. They were dressed as brightly as foreign birds and stood far too close to the men for what was proper in Emiline's head. The man had to jerk her away from the bizarre sight, settling into a dark corner and gesturing for her to sit opposite him. She did so gingerly, trying not to stare too much at his intriguing face. It wasn't what was traditionally handsome and what most girls settled for, but there was something... compelling about his face, something she couldn't quite understand. Like he had many layers and was trying to conceal everyone from her with his shabby confident façade.

Emiline only realised they were waiting for someone as another man sat next to her captor and slapped him on the back.

"Hello Edward, my dear." The new arrival said in a shaking voice; he looked and sounded rather old, like a clock that had wound down over several years.

"How is the plan coming 'Mr. Leeford'?" The old man asked, mock-sincerely before turning and spotting Emiline. "And who is this young woman?"

"My accomplice." Edward said, suddenly fixing his stare with hers and her heart skipped a beat. He had mis-matched eyes; one a light blue and one a deep brown. How queer.

"You old dog, you." The old man nudged Edward, reaching over and shaking Emiline's hand firmly. "Hello, my dear. You'll get on well with him, don't you worry. Kindest man I know."

"You work with thieves and pick-pockets." Edward accused him and Emiline couldn't help but notice that the presence of this older man seemed to make Edward uncomfortable.

"She doesn't know that." The old man stood up suddenly, looking over Emiline's head as though there was something important happening behind her

"Room three is free Edward." He said distractedly, glancing briefly at Emiline in a suggestive way. "Should you need it."

Then the old man was gone and Edward stood up, grabbing hold of Emiline's small wrist and her case before leading her upstairs.

"Who was that?" She asked, hoping to get an answer. She wanted so many more questions answered but she didn't know how game he was and what he truly felt towards her.

"Fagin." He answered shortly, only expanding when they were both inside room three. "He's an old crackpot but leads the best villain network in town."

"And why would you need that?" She asked nervously, hoping that he would indulge her, no matter how gruesome it was. At least it would be better than a continual question.

"I suppose you must find out eventually." He sighed, setting down her case. "I wish to prove the identity of a young boy named Oliver Twist. If I do this I inherit a large amount of money which has been left to me by his mother."

Emiline couldn't tell whether he was lying or not, but from his description there didn't seem to be anything underhand happening and she might just be content in this knowledge.

"If you could stand here." Edward gestured and Emiline did as she was told, still scared of him even after what Fagin had said. He looked her up and down slowly and she felt goose bumps prick her arms; she'd never felt this studied before.

"What's your name?" He asked softly.

"Emiline." She replied shortly, not willing to give her second name to this stranger. He seemed pleased enough, walking towards her and standing close enough to make her breathing hitch. He leaned towards her and with one hand pressed against her back he began to suck viciously at her neck.

"Mr Leeford!" She cried out, struggling against him. This definitely wasn't proper. He abruptly stopped, pausing for a moment to check his handiwork before reaching down and tearing a large section of her dress. She gasped, still not able to get the feeling of his mouth off of her neck. He straightened out, far too close to her for a complete stranger to be and she felt hands undoing the top buttons of her bodice, leaving her cleavage exposed in a way that her mother never would have approved of. She looked down at the long fingers making deft work of her buttons and she knew that this was wrong, oh so very wrong. But she still couldn't help being attracted to him.

He stepped back and looked her up and down again. Then with an almost demonic smirk on his face, he drew in close to her again, this time to her face and she mistakenly thought that he was going to kiss her. But he merely took her bottom lip in his mouth, biting it sharply until he drew blood. Only then did he step back and finally seem pleased with his work. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she dragged a shaking hand across her bottom lip, startling slightly as she saw the smear of red.

"What was that?" She gasped, breathing heavily from her assault and from the close proximity of her captor.

He looked at her with amusement and just a hint of desire crept into his features as he took in her gasping form, his love bites starting to bloom on her neck and her utterly shaken face that had never been exposed to the cruel world. And this wasn't even half of it.

"Come with me." He reached forward and linked his arm in hers.

"You expect me to go out like this?" She asked in disbelief. She pulled against his grip but he held firm as he pulled her out of the door. She cowered as they walked through the pub but no-one paid any attention, having seen shadier things happen in that pub. Out in the street it was worse, but Edward stood tall, effectively blocking out the small woman from view as he strode towards a waiting carriage. He told the driver to head towards a 'Clevedon Terrace', somewhere in the posh part of town where Emiline had never been. They settled inside of the carriage opposite each other and rode it out in silence. Edward's view flicked from the window to the woman, occasionally betraying himself as she glanced up at him and he quickly averted his gaze. Emiline was mainly focused on trying not to cry, holding back tears at her predicament. A deluded man had assaulted her and now they were on their way to an unknown location, alone in a carriage. And it didn't help that he kept staring at her.

*

They arrived at Clevedon Terrace but instead of getting out straight away, Edward had some instructions for Emiline.

"There's a man who lives at number 32. I fear he takes care of the boy in his own home and I want you to get proof of his existence."

"But how do I get in?" She asked nervously, looking up at the tall, intimidating buildings she was faced with. 

"He is of a kindly disposition. Say you've been... assaulted and he will grant you entry and you will most likely get treated like royalty." Edward looked her up and down before smirking. She crossed her arms over her chest, still not comfortable with how much skin was exposed before nodding.

"Okay. So get proof, come back and then can I go?"

"We'll see." Edward answered vaguely. She felt a stirring of anger but squashed it, not willing to jeopardize her chances at an escape.

"So you'll be here?" She asked, now stalling.

"The whole time." Edward said sincerely and she took a deep breath, stepping out of the carriage. She walked across the courtyard, feeling Mr Leeford's stare on her the entire time until she reached number 32. She rapped at the door, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for someone to answer. Fortunately, it appeared to be the master of the house who opened the door and so she could beg him directly.

"Please sir, I heard you was of a kindly nature and I've just been assaulted." She staggered slightly, overplaying her weakness just so he would take her in. She could tell that Edward wasn't lying as a look of pity crossed the man's face and he ushered her inside.

"Please, everyone is welcome here." He said, looking her up and down to see the state she was in.

"My god, the scum that live on this earth." He muttered to himself and Emiline nodded, knowing perfectly well that she was bad-mouthing the man waiting patiently in his carriage outside.

"And to a sweet thing like you." The man caressed her cheek, but instead of it feeling flirtatious it felt almost fatherly, especially as he led her upstairs by the small of her back. He asked one of his servants to tend to her and as she did so he talked to her through the closed door.

"I am Mr Brownlow." He informed her.

"How did you find out about me?" He asked curiously and Emiline's heart momentarily stopped; time for improvisation.

"A boy, sir. Who found me in the alleyway." She responded and heard him tutting on the other side of door as the servant dabbed at her swollen lip with a cloth. "May I ask you Mr Brownlow, do you live in this house alone?"

There was a pause as she waited for an answer, as if he was debating whether she was trustworthy or not.

"No. I currently live with my ward, Rose and a young boy named Oliver Twist. And of course, there is Miss Bedwin who is the house maid but I consider her family."

"This Oliver," Emiline started, wondering where to go with this as the servant started to pull her into a new dress that was a size too small. "I'm sure I know of a boy with the same name. I'm curious as to whether he's the same fellow or not."

"Well, you can meet him when you are finished in there." Mr Brownlow said pleasantly and Emiline almost jumped in excitement; this was going to be easier than she thought.

She exited the room a while later in a yellow, almost gold, high-waisted dress that was rather fashionable for someone who he merely found on the street. She felt a twinge of guilt at betraying him, but in a way he was saving her from spending more time with that strange, rather badly attractive, man waiting outside. He led her into a room where a young boy of about twelve sat on the floor, playing cards with a woman of about Emiline's age. As soon as she saw the new guest she stood up, inconspicuously eying the bruises on her neck and the swollen lip before curtsying to her. Emiline did the same, introducing herself.

"Please, feel free to join us." Rose gestured the cards and Emiline did so, feeling so terribly at home that she fancied that she might not leave. But as much as she liked it there, she liked her freedom more and so throughout the card game managed to casually question Oliver and find out whether it was actually his name or not. And later when Oliver had retired she asked Brownlow whether he had adopted him formally and was disappointed to discover that he owned no legal documentation or birth records since he had merely found the boy on the street. She took a bed at his house, twitching back her curtains to see whether the carriage was still there or not. Surely enough, it was and she could have sworn she saw Mr Leeford's pale face looking up at her from the window. But she knew it must be her imagination since there was only the dim light from the lamp-posts illuminating the street. She closed the curtain again and settled into bed, wondering how she could get proof of the boy. It took her a long time of thought but eventually she came up with a plan. They were going to have to take a little walk.

*

Emiline woke to join the family at breakfast and convinced Oliver to take short stroll with her alone. They walked after breakfast, Emiline taking them on a small detour before stopping in front of the carriage where she knew Edward would be able to hear her.

"Let me ask you something Oliver." She asked him sincerely, kneeling down to his level. "Is your name truly Oliver Twist?"

He nodded and she glanced up at the carriage, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear that.

"I've never been anyone else, Miss. Always Oliver Twist." The small boy said aloud, calming Emiline's worries. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." She brushed it off before leading the boy back inside and bidding farewell to her host.

"You can stay longer." He offered kindly but Emiline shook her head, making up an excuse.

"I have family who need me sir. You have been astoundingly kind though." She smiled as he took her hand in his and kissed it. "I hope to repay you some day. And I shall bring back the dress."

"No need." He said, shaking his head. "I have no use for it. Plus, it suits you."

"You are too kind sir." She thanked him before hugging Oliver and Rose goodbye and walking down the street. She waited until they were inside to circle back and head towards Edward still waiting in that carriage.

She entered the carriage and sat opposite him. He gazed at her, taking in her new dress and flustered appearance.

"Well?" She asked in exasperation; she'd done everything he asked and she didn't even get a comment.

"You've changed." He said absently and she sighed in irritation.

"Did you hear the conversation or not?"

"Oh yes." He said, his odd eyes lighting up.

Emiline chest swelled with pride as she knew she did something right by her captor.

"You did well." He muttered, leaning forward and tracing his long fingertips against the bruises on her neck. Her breathing fluttered, noticing how impossibly close he now was but she broke the moment, pulling away and looking out of the carriage window.

"So can I leave now?"

He only smirked, tapping the side of the carriage so it continued to trundle along the road.

"Not quite."

*

Emiline sat on the floor amongst a throng of rag-tag boys who clamoured around her. Mr Leeford had taken her back to Fagin's domain and she was not pleased with it. While they talked about god knows what, she was left at the mercy of Fagin's protégés. She sat silently until a woman entered the room and, upon seeing the newcomer, approached her and pulled her up from the ground.

"Hello, I'm Nancy." She said, shaking Emiline's hand before sitting down on a small rickety table.

"Emiline." She introduced herself, sitting opposite her before noticing the woman was dressed rather brightly with a low-cut dress exposing what seemed to be vast portions of her skin. Who did this Fagin surround himself with?

"That looks rather bad." Nancy gestured to her swollen lip and Emiline touched it, noticing it was particularly sore today. She hoped it was a sign of healing.

"Here, cooling it down should help." Nancy passed her an iron tankard which Emiline placed hesitantly on her lip. To her surprise, it was actually quite relieving and she thanked Nancy with a small smile.

"So, what's a princess like you doing in a place like this?" Nancy smiled but a hint of sadness seeped into her voice.

"That man took me from my carriage and threatened my life so that I would obey him." Emiline nodded towards Mr Leeford. She couldn't help noticing that when she said it like that it seemed to portray the series of events in a rather Romantic light. Which it obviously wasn't. No matter how attractive he was.

"The one in the dark suit?"

"Yes, the one who looks like he hasn't slept for about three years." Emiline stated and they both giggled. As if on cue, Edward looked up at that exact moment and Emiline immediately felt bad. Nancy didn't seem to notice the sudden drop of smile as she continued to chat with Emiline.

"I don't know that man all that well, he only arrived last week." She told her, only adding to his mysterious character. "What did he want you to do?"

"Find out the identity of some boy named Oliver." Emiline said dismissively but Nancy's eyes widened at the statement and she suddenly gripped Emiline's wrist.

"Oliver Twist?" Nancy asked and Emiline nodded slowly.

"How is he? Is he alright?" She asked, showing so much concern for the boy that Emiline mistook her for his mother. When she pointed this out, Nancy merely laughed and told her that she'd met him before.

"He was such a little dear. Didn't belong here, of course."

"He still is an absolute darling." Emiline reassured the woman, smiling as her eyes widened yet again.

"Do know where he is now?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes. He's at 32 Clevedon Terrace under the wing a lovely man named Brownlow. He also has an adopted sister, Rose." She informed Nancy who was almost shaking she was so pleased.

"Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." Emiline couldn't tell whether she was thanking her or not, especially as Nancy took her head off of the table, her eyes brimming with tears, and said; "He deserves it, of course."

They continued to talk, predominantly about Oliver as the evening progressed until Mr Leeford finally stood up, straightening his lapels before gesturing at Emiline. She shook Nancy's hand and asked to talk again before meekly following Edward. She didn't know where she was going, but it certainly wasn't home. Her sister would be worried sick.

It turned out that Mr Leeford was leading her towards the ominous 'room three' where he had assaulted her the first time. He opened the door for her and in a moment of delight she remembered that he'd brought her suitcase up and she could actually wear her own clothes now, instead of ones two sizes to small and bright yellow, not that she didn't appreciate the gesture. He closed the door behind them and her head suddenly jerked back, knowing the context that they were in. Late at night, quiet pub with a bed in close proximity. Her stomach churned as he looked at her with a lazy smirk on his face and stepped closer.

"I'm dreadfully sorry about those." He said softly, tracing the bruises on her neck which he had put there. "But I wanted it to be realistic."

There was a heavy pause as Emiline could think of nothing to say back and Edward appeared to be absorbed in eyeing her up like meat at a butchers. He reached forward and traced her bottom lip with one of his elegant fingers and when he passed over the bite mark she winced, but more out of habit than anything else since the wound was now clearing up nicely. He took one last glance into her eyes before abruptly leaving the room. Emiline stood, paralysed, as she looked at the spot where he'd stood and still felt phantom fingers on her lips. She hadn't _wanted_ anything to happen, of course, but she couldn't help feeling that she had missed out on something. Like there was something he should have given her in that very moment which was now lost forever. She climbed into bed automatically, absently staring at the ceiling as her mind wondered to places where it shouldn't go to as an unmarried woman.

*

Emiline awoke early but didn't venture downstairs. She instead dressed into her own clothes and inspected herself in the small dresser that stood in her bare room. The bruises on her neck were practically gone, only the faintest of green smudges remained, and it was the same with her lip. All healed, save a small mark. She tried to make her hair appealing with what little utensils she had until there was a brisk rapping at her door which made her jump.

"Come in." She said, refusing to turn around as the person whom she'd expected to turn up silently entered the room and closed the door behind them. She studied him through the mirror, trying to put a mask of cool indifference on her face as she took in his pallid face and cocked head.

"What are you to do to me?" She asked, finding it far easier to face him through the mirror. "Am I expected to stay here now like a little house pet, running to your every beck and call?"

She watched his eyes narrow before he stepped closer, pulling something out of his sleeve.

"Do you want to be a house pet?" He asked patronisingly and she stiffened as she felt something slide over her neck; he pulled it taut and upon looking in the mirror she saw that it was only his handkerchief now slowly tightening around her throat. She breathed deeply as the piece of fabric slipped from her neck and he instead placed his hands on her shoulders, narrowly avoiding touching her bare skin.

"I don't." She said softly. He smiled, leaning down so his head was on the same level as hers.

"You must like it, a little bit." He muttered, his breath tickling her ear. "Otherwise you wouldn't have stayed so long."

He finally moved away, the warmth from his hands leaving her shoulders as he studied the ornaments on the chest of drawers. She turned around, standing up in indignation and turning to face him, the real him, for the first time that day.

"Just because I'm scared of you-" She started but lost courage and couldn't finish. He looked to the floor then looked up at her through lowered lashes, making her heart skip a beat. She longed to take hold of him and finish what he had started last night, but that would be an act of defeat. So instead she waited until he stepped closer to her and she gulped audibly as he leaned so close that their noses touched.

"Admit it." He uttered, his hot breath teasing her face as his arm crept round her waist, drawing him closer to her. "You like it."

Then his lips were upon hers, tantalizing her with new and unknown sensations as he drew her even closer to him and his hands spread out possessively over her back. He was surprised to find little resistance from her as he imposed himself in a way that was hardly fitting for two people in their position. She even let herself go a little as her arms wrapped around his neck, deepening to kiss into something sensational, passionate.

After what seemed like an eternity, Edward broke it off. His hand reached around her neck and he leaned in to whisper something into Emiline's ear.

"I told you you liked it." He taunted her before pulling away and studying her intently, taking in her gasping form and swollen lips before smiling and leaving just as abruptly as yesterday. Emiline sighed; at least he had given her something this time. She slumped back into the little chair in front of the dresser. She mused over Mr Leeford for a while before noticing her own reflection in the mirror. Curious, she tipped her chin up and tried to imagine a collar around her neck. It wouldn't be all that bad, she thought to herself. Especially if it means he does more of that to me.


End file.
